The plan met with instant endors.e.m.e.nt on the part of their chums. They got together as many boys as they could, and late that afternoon the crowd went to Jamesville. The engine, which had been put in good shape, was ready for them.

"Look out you don't lose the buckets," cautioned the chief. "They're hanging underneath the tank. Now, boys, good luck, and may your first run be a success."

They thanked him for his good wishes, and the lads, having grasped the long rope, set out, dragging the engine after them. They made good time, and soon were on the outskirts of Lakeville.

"Now, wait until I light the lamps," said Bert, as it was getting dark. "Then we'll start through the town, singing. Sing for all you're worth!"

The boys needed no urging. They were full of enthusiasm over the new plan, and when the lamps were lighted on the old engine they gleamed on the bra.s.s work, making it sparkle brightly.

"It looks almost as good as new!" exclaimed Cole. "And them pumps is fine. They're almost as good as my force pump."

"Oh, let up on that force pump, can't you!" asked Tom Donnell. "You'd think it was the only pump in town!"

"It's the only one of that kind," declared Cole, a little hurt that his "patent" should thus be spoken of.

"All ready, now, boys?" asked Bert.

"All ready," was the general response.

They started off. Above the rumble of the wheels of the engine rose their voices in song, and, as they entered the main street of the village, people began to come out to see what the unusual excitement was about, for the purchase of the engine was not generally known, few persons believing the boys were serious in organizing a department.

"It's a circus!" exclaimed a little girl.

"Naw, it's one of them Indian medicine shows," declared Moses Sagger, who stood on the steps of his butcher shop.

"Why, it's a fire engine!" exclaimed several men. "However in the world did the boys get it? They must have borrowed it to have some fun with!"

"More likely took it without permission," said Mr. Sagger. "Somebody ought to tell Constable Stickler."

Down the street marched the proud boys, singing at the tops of their voices, the lamps showing off the engine to good advantage.

"Well, I must say those young chaps have a lot of gumption!" declared Mr. Appelby. "I wonder if they're going to keep the engine?"

"I wish there was a fire--I mean a little one, that wouldn't do much damage," said Cole. "I'd like to show 'em how she works."

"We might have arranged a bonfire in some lot and given an exhibition," suggested Bert, "We'll do that, after we have our company regularly organized."

But the boys were destined to give an exhibition before they antic.i.p.ated it.

From down toward the end of the village street there came a cry.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!"

It was Constable Stickler's voice.

"Fire! Fire!" he yelled. "Kimball's haystack is on fire! Turn out the brigade!"

It was a quiet evening, and his voice carried a long distance. The boys heard it plainly.

"Come on, fellows!" cried Bert. "Here's our chance! The engine is in good working order, and we'll have our first run!"

CHAPTER VII

BERT SAVES A TRAMP

The boys needed no further call. With whoops and yells they began to haul the engine rapidly in the direction of the fire, the reflection of which could already be seen.

"Come on!" cried Mr. Sagger, to several of the bucket brigade. "We must put out the fire. Come on, men!"

He caught up his bucket from the corner where he kept it. Other villagers did likewise, and soon there was quite a throng headed for the burning haystack.

"Leg it, boys! Leg it!" cried Tom Donnell. "Don't let those fellows of the bucket brigade get ahead of us!"

"If-they-do-we-can-beat-'em-by-squirting-more-water," panted Cole Bishop. "But-say-fellows-go-a little slower-I can't-run-much farther."

Indeed, he was out of breath, for the long tramp from Jamesville had tired him.

"Jump up on the engine, Cole," proposed Bert. "We can pull you. We'll make you engineer, and the engineer always rides on the machine."

"All--right," responded Cole, gratefully. He scrambled up on the apparatus, and, with a shout and cheer, the boys were off faster than before, for Cole had been a hindrance rather than a help, in pulling the apparatus, as he could not go fast.

"Fire! Fire!" shouted many voices, taking up the cry of the constable.

This brought out nearly all the members of the bucket brigade. The blaze was now brighter.

"Where we going to get our water?" asked John Boll of Bert, as he raced alongside of his chum, both dragging on the rope.

"In the brook. It runs right past Kimball's place, and we can form a line of buckets right down to it and up to the engine."

Mr. Kimball's place was on a side street. He had a house and a small barn. The latter building was not large enough to store his hay in, so he kept the stuff in a stack outside.

"Come on! Come on!" Constable Stickler could be heard yelling. "The barn'll catch pretty soon."

"We're coming!" replied Bert.

"For th' love of tripe! What's that?" cried the constable, as he caught sight of the engine.

"The Lakeville Fire Department!" responded several boys.

"Humph!" exclaimed the constable. "Don't you boys go to interferin'

with the bucket brigade. I won't have it. The bucket brigade is the regular department for this town."

"The only thing the matter with it is that it can't put out any fires," was the retort from John Boll. "Let's show 'em how we do it, boys."

On the way from Jamesville, Bert and Cole, who had been instructed by the chief of that department how to operate the engine, imparted this information to their chums. So, though the lads had never before worked a hand engine, they felt that they could make a good showing.